|Happy ninth! A time that gathers time|
And hands it to you in a bright bouquet.
Perhaps not all is roses, but the flowers
Plucked from paradise, portray all love,
Yearning for the beauty it reveals.
Nor ought you wonder, for what time conceals
In time will bloom, and scatter seed, and prove
No little portion of your future powers,
The garden that no time can take away,
Herbs and blossoms, mint and eglantine.
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